


Remember The Nights

by red_crate



Series: Harringrove Tumblr ficlets [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, POV Steve Harrington, Post-Season/Series 02, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 22:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19450711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: “So what’s got you tapping on my window at two in the morning?” Billy asks with a tight voice, still inhaling the smoke from his cigarette. “How’d I get so lucky?”





	Remember The Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tracy7307](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracy7307/gifts).



> I opened my ask box on tumblr to Harringrove fic prompts. Tracy sent me “a nighttime drive, summer.”

“What the fuck, Steve?” Billy hisses from the darkness in his bedroom. His face emerges when he leans close to the open window. “If my dad wakes up, you’re dead.” 

Steve’s hunched down between two scraggly bushes, hoping there aren’t any spiders crawling up his back. “Keep your voice down. Come on.” 

Billy makes a face before he looks back over his shoulder as if he’s thinking about the pros and cons. 

Steve urges, “Come on!” He keeps his voice a whisper. 

“Shut up.” Billy disappears back into his bedroom. The yellow cast to the street lights highlight the bounce of Billy’s curls for the briefest of moments 

A handful of eternity later, Billy is ducking beneath the sill of his open window and hitching a leg over the ledge. Steve barely misses getting a foot to the face, has to fall back on his ass to dodge it. 

“What are you doing?” Billy asks. His voice is still hushed. His window isn’t the only one in the house open. 

Steve has a flashback to the gym floor when Billy’s hand sticks out into the space in front of his face. He takes the offer though, even if he’s mentally braced to be shoved back down. Billy just helps haul him back to his feet. 

“Thanks,” Steve mutters as he dusts his ass off. 

He looks Billy over, noting the other boy pulled on a black tee with the sleeves cut off. It looks a little stiff like maybe it’s new. Steve doesn’t recognize the band name emblazoned on the front, but he’s sure they must be loud and angry. 

They both hunch as the skitter down the Hargrove yard to the street where Steve’s Beemer is parked in the middle of the street. Lets out a breathless laugh when they get in their seats. 

When he looks over at Billy to see if he’s as amused as Steve is, Billy is already looking at him with this guarded expression on his face. The interior light fades to black as Steve’s smile melts away. 

“Sorry,” he says as he slowly puts the key into the ignition. 

He can feel Billy moving, settling, in the seat next to his. Billy asks, “What for?” 

Steve bites back the frustrated groan that’s right behind his teeth. Instead, he turns the engine and throws the car into drive. The A/C starts blasting, but he turns it down a little when Billy rolls his window down halfway and lights up. 

“So what’s got you tapping on my window at two in the morning?” Billy asks with a tight voice, still inhaling the smoke from his cigarette. “How’d I get so lucky?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at the sarcasm in Billy’s voice, but he doesn’t hate it. It’s better than the awkward small talk Jonathan would be able to offer. And Steve really doesn’t want to deal with  _ future plans, _ because Nancy still thinks she’s the one who is going to convince Steve to skip off to college and do something with his life. 

And really, those were his only options these days, right? So when the anxiety and restlessness grew to strong, crawled around his head until he needed to get out of his house and away from the woods, Steve ended up at Billy’s house. 

“Didn’t look like you had anything better going on,” Steve says.

Billy makes a noncommittal sound, then gets quiet. 

The silence stretches between them as they roll across mile after mile. Steve’s barely hitting the speed limit. The feel of the balmy summer air hitting his face, smoke laced through, while he just  _ doesn’t think _ for a while is what Steve had been after. Billy’s presence next to him is an unusual choice considering they were beating the shut out of each other less than a year ago. There’s something about the other boy—when he keeps his mouth shut—that makes Steve feel less alone in an unexpected way. 

So they ride along in quiet. Sparks of red fly behind them when Billy flicks his dying cigarettes out the window. He doesn’t ask anything else from Steve. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Poison’s “Cry Tough.” 
> 
> I’m the-redcrate on tumblr.


End file.
